


Carpool

by giraffewithstripes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: High School AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffewithstripes/pseuds/giraffewithstripes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie arrives, ready for the car ride, but brings a certain someone along with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carpool

"What are you doing?" Dean questions, with a raised eyebrow, as Charlie swings the door of the impala open. She grins at him impishly, thrusting a comic in his direction, wrapped up in a plastic bag. Dean accepts this in his hands without question, it is not this that is not out of the norm, but more so the boy who hovers tentatively behind Charlie, his hand debating whether or not to open the back seat. His soft blue eyes look to Charlie to assurance, the internal crisis of being impolite or assuming, evident on his creased brow. Charlie plants her feet on a dashboard with a sly grin, somehow this act gives the boy confidence to slip into the back seat, his hands clenching the fabric of his rucksack. 

Dean frowns at the newbie, his eyes sizing him up, taking a moment to place his feeling of familiarity. He was in his English class. Quiet. One to eye roll at Dean’s jokes, a hard worker rather than a snoot. He did not look the sort that would be interested in a comic book exchange carpool, or enjoy a never ending playlist of old school rock bands. He looked more of an indie kid, a stickler for study, although Dean was not sure of what to make of his trench coat, far too big for him. 

Charlie huffs in exasperation, flipping her fringe out of her hair. “He just wants a lift." The dark haired boy shoots Dean a small smile to affirm his statement and Dean is quick to reciprocate, sorry for seeming rude. Castiel glances to Charlie, talking to her rather than Dean. “Do I have to give him a comic?" 

"Lord of the Rings and dystopian novels will also do just fine." Dean grins as he places his hands on the wheel, honking as his sharp eyes pick up Sam’s battered bag, felt badges sown over the patches. Dean had insisted that Sam get a new bag, but Sam had always resisted. “Hurry up nerd!" Dean calls playfully, and Charlie laughs as Sam rolls his eyes, as he approaches the car, groaning at Charlie who’s stolen the front seat. The boy smiles privately to himself, amused by the banter, he gives a checked laugh as Dean growls at Charlie for putting her feet onto the dashboard. She giggles as she places them back onto the ground, nudging Dean playfully until a small grin flicked up the corners of his lips. 

"You’re the nerd." Sam grumbles in the back seat, clipping in his seat belt. “I’m your ride." Dean retorted, starting the engine. 

Sam purses his lips, choosing not to pursue the argument. 

"I’m Sam," He says to the stranger on his far right, offering him a smile. 

"Castiel." He said in return, holding out a hand for Sam to shake, much to his surprise. He took it with a brief moment of hesitation. Dean turns to Charlie, his head tilting slightly. “No Benny today right?" 

"Yeah." Charlie assured him, Dean placed his foot on the pedal, moving his car forward. “If you ride with us again, Cas," Dean begins, as he speeds the car forward. “There are two things that you must know." 

"Just shut up Dean." Sam mutters, placing a palm to his face. 

"Do not interrupt our leader," Charlie jokes. “Let him make his speech. As you were saying my Lord?" 

Castiel looked between the three of them with a frown, unsure of whether to be amused or terrified. This was not what he’d enrolled for when he’d told Charlie, a member of his drama group that he was looking to car pool. He’d brought this experience entirely upon himself. 

Dean keeps a straight, serious face, and Castiel realises his greatest concern should be that Dean doesn’t keep his eyes nearly enough on the road. “One," Castiel is grateful that he doesn’t remove a hand from the steering wheel. “I pick the music." 

Castiel nods slowly, unsure of whether of whether or not this is a joke. But the music rumbling through the speaker states otherwise. “And two," Dean says keeping his eyes on the road, finally, “You treat my car with respect, as it’s a 67 chevy impala and it is my baby." 

"Get a room." Sam murmurs, a smug smile spreading across his face as Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. “You wanna walk Sam?" Dean growls, although Sam knows this is an empty threat, and he laughs to prove it.


End file.
